


See No Evil, Speak No Evil

by Sometimes_I_Write_Things



Category: Homestuck
Genre: ? - Freeform, Asphyxiation, Breathplay, Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, Edging, Humanstuck, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Self depreciation, Trans Character, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:29:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4849445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sometimes_I_Write_Things/pseuds/Sometimes_I_Write_Things
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know you shouldn’t, know you ought to walk away right now and forget this all ever happened, but you can’t seem to make your body move from your spot. This is all his fault: your bratty little brother being as beautiful as he is yet he is a right fowl little shit without a modicum of respect for you as his elder. Drives you crazy, he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You know you shouldn’t, know you ought to walk away right now and forget this all ever happened, but you can’t seem to make your body move from your spot. This is all his fault: your bratty little brother being as beautiful as he is yet he is a right fowl little shit without a modicum of respect for you as his elder. Drives you crazy, he does.

Often, you find yourself thinking of him; dreaming of how soft his skin is all those times you brush your fingers down his cheek to get his attention, how rough and calloused his knuckles are when they connect with your face in punishment for touching him in the first place. You fixate on how you think he would arch and writhe under your touch if you could just get him compliant long enough for you to learn where all his most sensitive spots are. Most of all, you can’t stop thinking about what music he would make for you if he would allow you to pleasure him.

You motherfucking yearn to hear him gasp and sigh all soft and sweet for you like he’s doing now, to grip your shoulders and scream his pleasures as you rock into his body. You burn to hear him sing for you, loud and obnoxious and right into your very fucking ear like when he’s cussing you out and hollering in your face. For now, you make do with the tiny sounds he allows to escape his lips as he touches himself.

His head lolls back on his pillow as he rubs himself through his underwear, circling and pressing down on the small nub at the apex of his sex. His spread legs give you an almost perfect view from where you watch from the crack in the door, the jumping muscles in his thighs and the wet spot growing in the cloth that covers his sweet little opening making your mouth water. It would be entirely perfect if you could just get closer, but you’d best remain where you are lest he notice your presence and stop the show he’s providing for you.

You allow yourself to regret the bar piercings through your lips for just this second, wishing you could flick your tongue out to wet your lips as you cup your own crotch and palm at your trapped arousal. It aches so beautifully, the pain of being denied what you desire most, and your legs shake with want to give out and crumble underneath you.

He pulls his panties to the side and pushes two fingers inside himself and you want to fucking cry. You would much rather it be your fingers getting their talk on at his insides, your touch commanding answers from his body that he would never give you with words. Your eyebrows push up at the center of your forehead and you hold your breath to keep from whimpering as you watch his long fingers disappear deeper inside himself. With each pump of his fingers into his slick hole, you grind the heel of your palm against your trapped member, carefully timing your motions with his so that you may better cater to the illusion that it is you making him shake and buck like he is.

Messiahs, you want him! Every sweet gasp and moan he makes has you panting hard through your nose and you are disgusted with yourself. He’s your motherfucking brother, your precious sibling that you practically raised yourself. The same motherfucker you pretended to brush off and sneer at to stop following you around and leave you be only because you had noticed how lovely he was as he grew. You had avoided him even more as he grew into his teenage years, his long legs and ass drawing your eye as his body began taking the shape of a grown ass motherfucker. It really is your fault for how he detests you now, for you had such a close and loving relationship before you realized you were cursed to lust after your own flesh and blood. You hate yourself that you have such passions for him, but you can’t ever hate him for being who he is, for looking the way he does. You don’t even blame him for how he seems to hate you seeing as you most likely broke his heart some years ago when you began turning him away. You just couldn’t bear to let him know for fear that he would reject and shun you, or even worse, that he would return your feelings and open the door for all your sinful wishes to become reality. You can’t ruin him like that, you just can’t.

So you allow yourself this: watching him pleasure himself while you grind against your palm and edge yourself. You never allow yourself to finish, never allow yourself to cum when you’re watching. You don’t deserve to climax while you’re observing your brother in bliss, knuckle keep in his own body and fucking himself with such desperate aggression. You only allow yourself to cum after you’ve had a fight with him, after he’s wrecked your shit so brutally that you can hardly see for how swollen your face gets. It just seems proper to you, for you to be allowed the relief of orgasm after you’ve been rightfully punished for your lust, whether or not he realizes which sins he’s punished you for.

His breathing hitches and rises in pitch and you hold your breath, rutting hard against your hand and staring intensely. Your eyes are wide and unblinking as his hips buck wildly in time with his thrusting fingers, each his desperate little whimpers gripping you heart and forcing it to hammer against your ribcage. When he stills and shakes himself to pieces, you hold your hand tight against your crotch, stilling your grinding but keeping the pressure there. Your dick throbs behind your jeans and the breath you hold in your chest makes it so every pulse of blood in your body feels ten times more intense. You want, oh do you fucking want to chase that pleasure to relief; but you have to deny yourself. You have to keep watching and listening, witnessing the gorgeous rapture that grips him and burning the experience into your memory; a new addition to your extensive spank bank.

When he slumps down with a heavy groan, you release the breath you’d been holding, very nearly cumming in your pants from the pleasure the rush of oxygen to your starved bloodstream gives you. You have to snatch your hand away when you feel your balls draw up tight, huffing hard through your nose and accidentally letting a needy little sound hum through your nose. You freeze when you see your beloved sibling sit up with a start, your eyes making contact with his for the shortest second before you bolt from the doorway and into your room. You slam the door shut and clutch at your chest, heaving and panicky breaths.

He saw you, you know he did. You can hear footsteps approaching down the hall. He’s going fucking ruin you, you just know it. He’s going to beat you to a fucking pulp and tell your father. He’s going to motherfucking kill you and you know you wouldn’t stop him. Your cock still throbs in your jeans even as fear takes you when you hear his footsteps stop at your door. You do your best to calm your breathing but it’s no good, so you have to hold your breath again and simply listen. He’s going to fuck you up. He’s going to fuck you the motherfuck up!

It seems like an eternity before you hear any change outside, the sound of footsteps moving away from your door and if you strain your ears, you can make out the sound of him chuckling low and dark. Perhaps you should stay hidden away in your room for a good while. You’re not sure what that chuckle meant, but a part of you itches to find out. Instead of listening to the little voice in your head that encourages you to open your door and take your beating so you can just fucking cum, you crawl into your bed and hide under the covers; crying silently as you wait for your dick to stop pulsating so you can sleep and dream of your brother’s slick, swollen nethers.


	2. Sweet Retribution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurloz thought he was safe in his room. He wasn't at all safe. (shit summary is shit)

You had been dreaming of him when something wakes you from your cry-induced sleep, a peculiar pulling at the back of your mind that’s doing its damnedest to bring you back to wakefulness. You had ended up on your back while you were sleeping and once you’ve gained just enough awareness to feel a weight on your abdomen. Your eyelids are still so heavy with sleep that you can barely peek through them to make out what it is that’s sitting on you.

Perhaps you’re still dreaming. Everything seems so surreal, so far away from your conscious knowing. There’s a faint pressure dragging down your neck and you shiver, tilting your chin up and sighing at the sensation. That feels… pretty fucking nice. A hum vibrates deep in your throat, a gentle sound of your approval for the touch on your skin.  
Your dozy contentment is cut short by a sudden grip around your neck; restraining your breathing and shocking you fully awake. Your eyes snap open and you blink rapidly, doing your best to focus on the figure above you. There’s a raspy chuckle and you gawk as your drowsy mind connects the voice to the dark figure.

“Hey, bro. Have good dreams?”

You wheeze a gasp and grab the hands squeezing around your neck only to have them grip tighter. Gamzee somehow managed to get your door unlocked and has come to kill you in your sleep. You deserve it, you know. It’s a fitting end for a motherfucker as sick as you. It was only a matter of time, really, but you’re not ready just yet. You’re not so resolved in your guilt that you truly want to die, but you don’t have the will to fight your brother for your life. You wanted to make him smile just one more time, make him laugh and send some of that beautiful mirth he wastes on those fuckers he calls friends your way.

You try and toss him off you, twisting and bucking the best you can with the lack of air rendering you weak. Your efforts prove futile, your beautiful little shit of a brother gripping your sides with his thighs to keep himself in place. You try for pushing him off with your hands, but he grips your neck tighter and throttles you. The most pathetic excuse for a gasp wisps past your lips followed by a wet clicking sound, the vigorous shaking making your tongue flop about and gag you until he slams you back down hard. You’re sure if your pillow wasn’t there to cushion your head, Gamzee could very well have cracked your skull open. Perhaps, he’s trying to. It wouldn’t surprise you, given Gamzee’s violent tendencies towards you.

“Thought I didn’t know, huh? Thought I hadn’t got my notice on of the nasty shit you get up to in my motherfuckin’ doorway?”

Your eyes could damn near pop out of your head from how that gets them to bugging, a look of absolute dread and terror fixed on your features as he starts speaking your sins to you. Shame burns hot behind your eyes, and he’s squeezing tighter as he goes on, tight enough that you can’t even manage a shallow gasp.

“I’ve all up and seen the way you look at me. Seen how you take the motherfuckin’ liberty to get your dirty ass eyeballs on my bod when I’m up and getting some mirthful touching on of myself.”

His voice is low and terrible, going from barely audible to pointedly restrained and you can fucking hear where he wants to yell the words. You know him so well, can predict where he’d choose to raise his voice and where he’d make it soft and thrumming. You couldn’t be more thankful that he keeps his volume in check, but you find it hard to keep hold of that gratefulness when your vision is starting to darken at the edges. He squeezes and squeezes and you’re sure you’re going to bruise. It’s not until your eyes start to flutter that he releases his hold on your throat, leaving you to sputter and choke and heave for breath and motherfuck does it hurt.

You try to get yourself together enough to tell him something, anything. You’ve got to figure a way out of this. Your hands come up and ready to sign at him while you cough, fingers flicking and wrists twisting out some half-assed explanation and it’s all for nothing. Gamzee grabs your throat again with both hands, pressing down hard on your windpipe with the heels of his hands.

Messiahs, you burn! To have him looming over you with that terrible delighted grin while he chokes you out has you harder than you’d ever want to admit. It could also be attributed to the slow burning in your muscles making you more sensitive to every tactile stimulus. Even your boxers twisting on your waist and thighs feels good. In actuality, your blatant arousal straining in your underwear is more than likely 85% due to the fact that your baby brother is the one taking your breath away.

You’re not sure if this round of punishment will be made better or worse by the fact that your brother knows how lust for him, especially with the proof now pressing at Gamzee’s tailbone. He shifts where he’s sitting on you, and your heart stutters in your chest when you see his eyes go wide. He’s going to kill you. He’s going to choke you until he motherfucking kills you.

Much to your surprise, a grin stretches across his features. His eyes are alight with wicked intentions and he chuckles deep in his throat. He lifts his hips up off of you just as he releases your neck, giving you time to gasp for air and try to get him up off you. However, you’re thwarted by his hips slamming down on yours, and all the air you had been working so hard to get in your lungs leaves you in one great whoosh.

It’s then that you realize he’s bare under the huge t-shirt he’s wearing. You can feel the wet heat of him seeping through the thin fabric of your boxers. He sneers down at you when your length jumps and twitches in eager response to having his sex in such close proximity. He rumbles softly with mirth at your expense before he grabs your neck yet again.

The tears you had been fighting back spill over as you retch. You don’t even fight him anymore, just cupping his hands with your own and allowing him to deny you breath. You can resign to your fate if it means you can feel your brother twitch against your cock and dampen your boxers.

He starts grinding on you and you cannot fucking believe it. He must have killed you already. Surely, this cannot be actually happening. He allowing you to feel that hot slick pressure of his soft sex sliding and rubbing up and down the length of your shaft. You watch the act in awe and disbelief as the wet spot on your crotch grows, watery precum joining his slick as the friction drives you mad with want. He’s pressed so close you can feel him twitch, can feel his clit dragging and flicking over the head of your cock as he moves against you. He still looks down at you with venom, no longer smiling but snarling in what can only be utter revulsion.

“Fucking nasty. You hard as all motherfuck from me choking you out…. Tell me, bro: is that because you’re a fucking bitch for pain and punishment, or are you just a bitch for me?”

You manage the barest of whines and spill fresh tears, the verity of his words too much for you to hear out loud. It’s too fucking much and so fucking good! You are fucking salivating and you can’t swallow thanks to Gamzee’s hand keeping your throat pinned closed. Your saliva starts to spill over your lips and dribble down the corners of your mouth and down your chin. Your vision starts to blur and darken again and Gamzee throttles you, pouring more spit out over your lips. You choke out a pathetic noise and grip at his forearms, trying to keep yourself anchored so that your head doesn’t go flinging off somewhere. It would be a shame if you died before you saw this out to the end.

“Answer me, motherfucker! Are you my bitch?”

You take a hand off his arm to form a fist and knock at the air, a small smile quirking at the corners of your lips. What’s the use of lying now?

/Yes/

That brings back his grin and he shoves you hard into the bed, releasing you and allowing you an even shorter break before he’s clutching your throat again. The lack of oxygen along with most your blood throbbing in your dick has you drunk and giddy, a full on grin gracing your features as you tilt your head back and allow him to do as he pleases with you. You fucking welcome it! So long as it’s his hands, you will gladly offer him your windpipe. So long as he keeps fucking humping you, you will let him do to you whatever his fucked up little heart desires.

“Do it,” he throttles you again, something akin to a moan straining in your throat, “Fucking… do it. I wanna… I wanna see it….”

His hips buck and twist and roll on top of you, your cock nestled between his slippery lips and twitching as you near your climax. His words command you to pleasure as surely as the soaked cloth rubbing roughly along the underside of your dick.

“You got to watch me… Motherfucker, now you’re gonna let me see you come undone…. Fucking cum, already!”

Every muscle in your body screams for oxygen, your heartbeat hammering in your ears and your member pulsating. You buck your hips up against him in a desperate attempt to obey him. You arch and roll and rut the best you can with the burning in your muscles rendering you clumsy and weak. When you finally reach your peak, your back bows and you blow your load. You shake all to pieces, writhing and trembling under your brother. In some part of your mind, you register that you can breathe again and it sends you reeling. The immense relief of having your breath returned to you amplifies your orgasm and you bite down on your bottom lip to muffle the throaty groan that tries to tear out of you.  
You can’t fucking see, it’s so good! You’re blinded by the euphoria of your release and it sparks behind your eyes as Gamzee keeps grinding. The wet fabric of your boxers stroking your overstimulated flesh gets you wincing and whimpering, but Gamzee doesn’t heed your non-verbal pleas. He grabs your face and forces you to turn your cheek down into the pillow. It’s too much and you’re twitching and jerking from the overwhelming friction, but you won’t make him stop. Not until he’s cum too.

He’s panting hard through clenched teeth and you wish he would get his fucking hand off your face so you could see his. You want to see him up close when he finishes, but you’re only allowed the delicious pulse of his sex against yours and the beautiful gasps he makes as he finally finds his orgasm. You can’t help but moan as he soaks your boxers further, the entire front now ruined with his and your release.

He keeps his hand on your face as he finally comes down, giving you respite from his torturous grinding as he catches his breath. For a short while, the only sounds in the room are the sounds of the two of you panting. It’s a pleasant soundtrack to the afterglow you got going. However, the little fucker breaks the almost-silence with a grunt and a shove to your face. You grunt as well, but don’t shift from where he left you, too worn out to do something as cumbersome as moving.

“You’re fucking gross,” he grumbles before getting off of you, shuffling out of your room without another glance in your direction. The door clicks shut behind him.  
As you lie there in your own mess, all that just happened comes crashing down on you. You’d just cum from being strangled by your baby brother and he had humped you until he came all over your boxers. It hurts like hell when you try to swallow the lump in your throat and you know for a fact when you wake tomorrow, you will have ten finger-shaped bruises adorning your neck. You lightly stroke your throat where it aches, replaying the scene over and over again in your mind. You will burn this night into your memory, keep it forever– so there’s something you can cling to when you inevitably get the retribution you so deserve.


End file.
